Dust
by SGreenD
Summary: Sequel to "Hostage", but can stand alone. Dell tried to kill himself after Heather took off with Betsy. How will he go on from there?


Heyo!

So, I'd said that there was a sequel to "Hostage", and although that story of mine did not stir up much attention, I found myself with some extra time on my hands today (my wisdom teeth are inflamed, and you can't do much with that but try and distract yourself from the pain) and decided to start translating the first chapter.

So, this is the first part of "Dust", a direct sequel to "Hostage". Reading that beforehand I would recommend, but if you really don't want to I guess you'll get the gist of what happened. (The gist is: Dell tried to kill himself after Heather took of with Betsy. There you go.) What's to say is, this takes place after episode 2x20 "Do the right thing", but nothing that happened after that episode in the series has happened here. If you're a fan of anyone except Dell, you're reading the wrong story.

A second chapter will be uploaded as soon as I've finished translating, whenever that might be, because the 2nd chapter is looooong.

It's rated T, because we're talking about suicide, which is a serious topic and not to be taken lightly. Also, in the 2nd chapter, there will be sex, but nothing graphic.

And lastly, I'm German. English is NOT my native language. If I make grammar mistakes, or even spelling, PM or review. I'll gladly take ANY advice one might have to offer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Private Practice, nor any of its characters, and I am not making money with this.

Thanks for reading. Have fun!

* * *

Dust

Part 1

The usually blue sky above L.A. was covered by grey clouds. A strange kind of tension lay in the air, a familiar smell was lingering in the streets, and even though the weather forecast had announced the sun would be shining till evening everyone knew it was going to rain soon.

Naomi didn't mind. Usually she didn't like the rain. But today was not a usual day.

There she stood, with Sam next to her holding on to her to give her at least some sense of security, next to them stood Addison and Pete and Cooper, still completely unbelieving, and even Charlotte was with them, looking as stunned as they did. They were all watching through the window the plain hospital room in which Dell was spread out on a bed, on his side, with his back to them, a clear sign that he was awake but didn't want to see or talk to any of them. Violet had still entered his room and was now approaching his bed.

Naomi watched her slowly advance, a hand pressed to her back, her huge pregnant belly forcing her into a slight shamble. In fact, Naomi did not want to be here. She wanted to be out on the street waiting for the rain, to feel its cool wetness on her skin so she could feel something else than the pain and confusion over what she had experienced not 12 hours ago. Dell had tried to kill himself, and he had almost succeeded. The blood stains on her pants bore witness to it. Maybe the rain would wash away the blood, and with it the pain and confusion and this strange sense of… loss that she could not quite get a hold of.

Cooper checked his watch. It was 10 am. One and a half hours ago Sam and Naomi had arrived at the practice, their clothes covered in blood and their faces lined with shock. Addison had wanted to snap at them because they hadn't attended the 8 o'clock meeting, and if they had any idea where the HECK Dell was at again? But she didn't even finish half of her first sentence when everyone present noticed the appearance of the formerly married couple. Cooper first hadn't believed what they had told him. That Dell was in the hospital because he'd tried to commit suicide. That Sam had just managed to keep him alive. That he survived the night and was stable now. Dell? The young, carefree surfer boy? What had gone wrong to have it come to that?

Pete didn't know what to say. He was not a fan of uncomfortable silences. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Damn it, he didn't even know what to think! He'd known how hard it was on Dell to be separated from Betsy, they all had, but nobody had done anything because nobody had taken the situation that seriously. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he knew that nobody had taken Dell that seriously. They had just seen him as the pretty surfer boy and nothing more. Pete had always thought of himself to be a pretty good judge of people, an even better one than Violet, and he had also known that Dell's behavior lately – pulling all-nighters, showing up late for work, sometimes hung-over, once even still drunk – had emerged from pure grief, but he blamed himself for not seeing where this would lead. He should have seen it coming. Pete bit his lip. He should have seen it.

Sam stood and looked at Violet's curvy form without seeing it. He was still in shock, he felt it. He'd once worked in an ER and seen people do things to themselves that had been way more horrid than this, and he'd felt nothing but pity and incomprehension, but this was different. That person in there, on that bed, was not just any person, not just a stranger whose life he had saved in an ER. This was Dell. His receptionist. His midwife. His colleague. His… yes, despite all those harsh words that had been spoken, despite the age difference, despite the fight over Naomi, Sam was close to calling him his friend. In Dell's apartment, in his bedroom, he had kept Dell from dying. He was still wearing his clothes that were drenched in Dell's blood, his button-down, formerly blue, the sleeves now a dark red, his dress pants, formerly beige, that now had a red-brownish tinge to them at the knees. But Sam didn't really care. He didn't even take notice of that he was wearing. It just didn't matter right now. Beside himself he felt Naomi shiver. He could see a bit of the grey sky through the window; he'd always liked the rain. Maybe it would wash away the pain that Sam just couldn't seem to get rid of.

Addison just stood there and looked. Looked at the bed that Dell lay in. She hadn't been able to believe what Sam had told her while Naomi sat next to him in silence, rocking to and fro like neglected children tend to do. She only started to believe it when she got to see Dell. For some strange reason her first meeting with him had popped into her head, when she'd sat there with Violet and Naomi watching Dell pass them, scarcely clothed, surf board in hand, and she hadn't thought more to him than a pretty blonde boy, hadn't known how hard his life had been, and she had seen the sheer agony he had been in because he couldn't see his daughter anymore. Why hadn't she helped him? Why had she wracked her brain over Noah when there'd been a storm gathering right in front of her nose? Addison could not find an answer to that. She just stood there and looked.

Charlotte hadn't known why the whole Oceanside Wellness Group staff had collected in front of one hospital room. Only when she took a look through the window, did she understand. Yes, she'd heard about the young man who'd been brought in last night because he'd slit open both of his wrists, but she hadn't seen him and hadn't asked for a name. She'd only been told that he was blonde, in his early twenties, and accompanied by two afro-american doctors who had apparently saved his life. Of course now it all made sense. She silently placed herself next to Cooper, and when he looked at her she put a supporting hand on his arm.

Violet slowly approached Dell. He had to have heard the door opening and someone entering, but he didn't let it on. She knew what was going on in the heads of failed suicides. They felt shame and remorse, and they didn't want to see anyone nor talk to anyone, especially not friends, family or colleagues – too big was the fear of not being accepted anymore. And then you had to differentiate between two types: There were those who had acted on an impulse and regretted the attempt, who were actually glad it had not been successful. And then there were those who had planned it, who had really wanted to die and, given the chance, would try again. Now she had to find out which one of those types Dell applied to.

"Dell?" She touched his shoulder. No reaction.

"Dell, it's me, Violet." Still, nothing.

"I want to talk to you." He still did not react.

She knew he didn't want to look at her, but to have a successful conversation she had to confront him, so she walked around the bed and settled into the stiff visitors' chair whose back faced the outer window. She could see his face like that: He was very pale, and he had his eyes closed. She took note of the thick bandages around his wrists. An IV was hooked in the crook of his left elbow.

"Dell" she said softly. He flinched, and she knew he'd heard her. She didn't say anything else, just waited for a reaction. Minutes passed. It started to rain; big drops hit the glass from outside. Violet listened to that soothing noise. Her unborn child kicked lightly, and she put a hand on the affected spot of her belly.

After several minutes passed Dell finally broke the silence.

"Please leave" he murmured.

"No, Dell, I won't do that."

"No, leave. I want to be alone."

"Dell, talk to me. I can help you."

Dell's head rocketed upwards and he glared at her through squinted eyelids.

"Why is everybody telling me that they can help me?" he spit. "I don't need any help. I don't WANT any help. I had a reason for doing this, and no one thought it necessary to help me when it was still possible, so don't come at me saying you can help!"

Violet stayed calm. "Tell me why you did it."

He slumped a little. "I really don't want to talk to you, Violet."

"But I want to know."

"It doesn't matter why I did it. Nothing matters."

"What do you mean?"

"It just doesn't make any sense anymore. Betsy is gone, and she somehow… took me with her…"

Tears started flowing down his face. Violet gently ran her hand through his blonde hair.

"So you really miss Betsy?"

"I don't just miss her. Without her my life is just senseless. It was senseless before, and then she entered my life, and now that she's gone it all makes even less sense…"

"So you think that the purpose of being a father for Betsy had fulfilled your life and that without that purpose you cannot seem to find any meaning to your life anymore?" Violet rationalized. Dell just shrugged.

"But have you considered that your life can be fulfilled without a child?"

"You're obviously one to talk" Dell said sarcastically, glancing at her pregnant belly.

"We're not talking about me right here, Dell. Listen to me. I can understand how hard it must be for you not to have Betsy around anymore, but that simply means that you have to re-orientate yourself to the point of your life where Betsy had not been a part of it. It's not gonna be easy, but I can…"

"No, you don't understand. It had been meaningless before, but I only understood how meaningless it really all is when Betsy left again. It's always been this way. Before her there was nothing, and now, there's even less."

"So you're saying that you'd already had issues before Heather relapsed?" She was surprised.

He looked at her again, but he didn't look angry anymore, just resigned, and tired. "Listen, Violet. I don't want to be analyzed by you or something. There's nothing to analyze. I wanted to die yesterday and I still do now." He closed his eyes again and coiled up under the thin blanket. "Please leave now."

Violet accepted that she wouldn't get anywhere with him now and decided to call it a day. She lifted herself out of the chair with effort, brushed her hand through his hair once more and left the room.

Outside she met her friends and colleagues who looked at her expectantly. "So?" Pete said. "Did you achieve anything?"

She shook her head no. "As far as I can understand, he has to have had psychological issues for years. He is depressed and extremely suicidal. He will require therapy and appropriate medication for months at least. Eventually that therapy will certainly be done ambulantly, but in his current state, he will have to be set up in a locked mental ward."

Everyone present was silent in shock when they heard what Violet had to say about Dell. They would have never thought his condition to be so serious. But Violet was certain: Dell was definitely suicide-type 2, and he needed help.

* * *

They all stayed till noon, but then they left; there was nothing they could do. Addison offered Naomi to live with her the next few days, and Naomi gladly took that offer. She didn't know if she could be alone right now. Sam and Addison followed her home to help her pack a few things. The practice stayed closed for the day.

Cooper said good bye to Charlotte and took Violet home, who was completely lost in thought. She heavily blamed herself for not noticing all this time that Dell was this severely depressed. She had been working with him for quite a while now, had seen him every day… how could she have missed this?

The thought didn't leave her alone. In the evening she called the hospital again to get an update on his condition and was told that Dell got better, but refused to eat, which didn't surprise Violet in the slightest. There was nothing else to tell. Still, Violet had this nagging feeling when she went to bed. Her baby was more restless than usual, as if it wanted to tell her something. Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. Dell would be under close supervision for the next 48 hours anyway, a common security precaution with suicidal patients. There was nothing for her to acutely worry about right now. Despite knowing this, it took her long to find sleep.

* * *

The next morning the practice opened again, as if nothing had happened. The seat behind the reception remained empty. Violet asked Sam and Naomi how they were managing the traumatic experience, and both of them said that, all things considered, they were doing okay.

During lunch break Violet asked Cooper to drive her to the hospital to look after Dell. That nagging feeling from last night was still there, it had gotten even stronger and just wouldn't leave her alone. Cooper agreed. While they were driving, he kept sneaking inquiring glances at her, though, until Violet rolled her eyes, annoyed.

"Cooper, if you don't look at the street from time to time, as well, you're gonna crash us into a tree."

"Something's bothering you, isn't it." He scrutinized her closely. "What's going on in your head, Violet?"

"Nothing, just…"

"Just?"

"I have this… feeling…" She shook her head. "This feeling that something's wrong. I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know! The light's green, by the way."

"Does it have something to do with Dell?"

"Something's just not right. I can feel it. What if we get there, and he's… I don't know… gone?"

"You know that's impossible."

"But something's definitely wrong. Careful, kid on the street!"

Cooper hit the brakes and they came to a screeching halt, watching a little girl cross the street, balloon in hand. "Everything's fine, trust me, Violet. We'll go visit him real quick and say hello, you might even get one or two answers out of him, and that's all we can really do right now. We're here."

She just nodded, lost in thought again, trying to tell herself that Cooper was right. But when they stepped into Dell's room, it was empty, and Dell was gone.

* * *

Dun dun DUN! :) I know a cliffhanger when I see one. If there is anyone who might like to know what happens next, just review to let me know. It might give me extra motivation to hurry with the translating, which is really not that much fun.

If there was anything else I wanted to say, I... well, I forgot. I'm sorry, that happens quite often.

I really hope you enjoyed this. Feedback is much appreciated. See you for Part 2!


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